The Slightest Slip
by ElleUndomiel
Summary: What would happen if Hermione was left behind at the Malfoy Manor after Dobby and the others escaped? The Dark Lord leaves Draco alone with the girl, directing him to torture her until she reveals what Potter is up to... RATED M for violence and sex.
1. Chapter 1 - Stranded

"_Cissy, put the boys in the cellar. I'm going to have a conversation with this one, girl to girl!" _

_Blood everywhere. Desperate screams. _

"_You're a lying, filthy __Mudblood__, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, _tell the truth_! What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife! What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! _CRUCIO_!"_

_Bellatrix's words flew through her mind, the memory sending shivers down her spine. She had known that the anarchial Bellatrix Lestrange wouldn't let her go without consequence. The pain came with relief, however. The house elf Dobby had returned to save her and her friends. A chandelier crashed to the ground, dust flying everywhere, the once-grandiose and ostentatious house of Malfoy now tainted. _

"_Stupid elf! You could've killed me!"_

_More scuffling, wands raised, they were about to attack. Disarmament with a snap of his fingers. _

"_How dare you defy your master!"_

"_Dobby has no master. Dobby is a free elf." _

_ The house elf, his eyes fixed unwaveringly upon Bellatrix, snapped his fingers. In that instant, everything changed. Ron, whose hand was wrapped around hers tightly, was sweating profusely. Her own hand, shaking with worry, slipped from his as Dobby snapped his fingers. She felt her friends twist on the spot and disappear into darkness. She screamed desperately, she did all she could to grasp something, any part of them. But the attempt was futile. She hadn't made it. _

_ She grasped her knees and pulled them to her chest, entire body shaking violently. Backing in to the fireplace, and settling against the wall, she stared into Bellatrix's worn and heavy-lidded eyes. She could see Draco standing behind, eyes filled with fright, his face giving the impression that he was living in a nightmare. Lucius and Narcissa clutched each other, clearly panicked. Bellatrix Lestrange was the only soul in the room who kept her composure. She stood quite still, a chilling sight to behold. It was like watching a snake, coiled up and ready to attack at any time._

_ It was over. Harry and the others had escaped without her. They wouldn't return, not now. It was far too dangerous. Hermione Granger belonged to the Death Eaters for the time being, there was nothing she could do to change that. _

Bellatrix's lips curved slowly, forming a smirk. Her black eyes shone mockingly at Hermione. She turned quickly to face the Malfoys. "He was here! Potter could've been killed if you three _cowards_ hadn't let him go!" She shrieked. "Wait until the Dark Lord hears about this. I'm surprised, Lucius, that someone with your _past_ wouldn't try a little bit harder! Cissy, you've always had atrocious taste in men.." Bellatrix added, her voice suddenly dry. "And you, Draco..." The simple sound of his name had the boy frozen with fear. She sauntered up behind Draco, her ghostly pale and cold hand clutching his shoulders. "Never before have I seen someone so USELESS. Like your father you are! You let him take Pettigrew's, yours, and my own wand, idiot!"

She turned the boy around to face her, and slapped him across the face with all of her might. The sickening sound filled the room, and the red mark left by her hand contrasted greatly with Draco's already pale skin. Lucius shut his eyes tightly, and Narcissa gasped.

"PLEASE! Bella, he's just a boy!" She exclaimed, afraid of her sister's rage. Bellatrix laughed coldly, turning away from the family once more.

"You should be thankful that I don't have my wand or dagger, Cissy. He deserves worse, and you know it." She spoke loudly, every word laced with disgust. "At least _I _killed the elf. Although I can't deny I'd have loved to see him bleed. To watch the light leave his sickeningly proud eyes." She stared into the distance, as if imagining the very thing, a lustful smile appearing on her face. "Now, what shall we do with the Mudblood? If _Draco_ hadn't given my wand to Potter, I'd have loved to play with her for a few hours.. I could have her begging me for death within minutes. You'd all see how it's supposed to be done."

It was the first time that all four of the Death Eaters had focused their attention on Hermione. She looked to the ground, avoiding eye contact. Her clothes were covered in ash and blood, her face spotted with dirt and cuts. Clamping her hands tight in fists, she noticed for the first time that she still held Bellatrix's wand, something she'd grabbed from Harry before they Apparated. She did the best she could to move her shaking hand behind her back, praying that none had noticed. The wand was her only hope. It was useless. Bellatrix was a cunning and sharp witch, and she saw it immediately.

"Oh, I see what you're doing.." She exclaimed, a few haunting chuckles following, "very naughty. I'd love to see how you're going to escape, Mudblood. However your _filthy_ and _unworthy _flesh is dirtying my possessions!" Her shrill voice echoed in the silent manor.

Bellatrix walked briskly towards Hermione, eyes filled with rage. "Give it here, whore." She stuck out her hand impatiently. Hermione teared up, but took the wand out from behind her back. She tried her best to think of a spell effective enough to get out of the situation, but nothing surfaced. Her mind was blank with panic. "St-s-stupefy!" She screamed, pointing the wand at Bellatrix's heart.

The Death Eater laughed as a few pathetic red sparks leaked from Hermione's wand. She snatched her wand from the girl's shaking hand and used her other arm to grab a few clumps of Hermione's hair. Pulling with all of her might, she dragged the Mudblood out from the fireplace and into the middle of the room. Hermione's helpless screams echoed around her. She laid on the stone floor surrounded by strands of her own hair. Blood seeped down her face like red tears. Bellatrix looked down upon her, and spit on the ground next to her. Lucius and Narcissa did all they could to laugh with their fellow Death Eater, making light of Hermione's misery. Draco stood frozen in the corner. His grey eyes were fixed upon Hermione as well, though he wasn't laughing. His lips lay flat, his arms crossed upon his chest. There was still a patch of pink on his cheek from earlier.

"WELL? What are you waiting for Lucius? CALL HIM! NOW!" Bellatrix screeched, her heel pushing into Hermione's chest, ensuring that she wouldn't try and move. Beads of blood appeared next to Bellatrix's shoe, which was clearly piercing the skin. Lucius cleared his throat. "I don't know if he's- if it's going to-" He started, in a barely audible mumble.

"DO IT, COWARD!"

He lifted up his sleeve, and it was done. A faint pop echoed through the house. He was coming.


	2. Chapter 2 - A Grim Reality

((First off, I'd like to say thanks to all of you for the positive feedback! I've been aching to write a fan fic for such a long time, and I'm so glad it's being received well. I'll try to update as much as I can, but the next few weeks are going to be somewhat busy, what with moving back to college and all. Keep reviewing! Thank you!))

The unmistaken sound of Apparation put everyone but Bellatrix on edge. Lucius clutched his wife, his hands shaking. Narcissa looked helplessly from Draco to her husband, fear etched across her porcelain face. Hermione, pinned to the floor by Bellatrix, was shaking. Her sobs were barely audible through the mess of hair and blood that surrounded her. Mrs. Lestrange stood quite still, anticipation lighting up her dark features.

"What have we here?" A frightening, yet very smooth voice asked quietly. A cloaked figure entered the room. His red eyes greedily scanned the disaster-stricken area, searching for one thing: Harry Potter. When he didn't see the boy, his calm expression took a turn for the worst. Eyes swimming with anger, Voldemort paced gracefully across the stone floor, ignoring the Mudblood scum as he passed Bellatrix. "Malfoy. I can't help but wonder why, after all of the misfortune you've brought me, you would call me here for absolutely _no reason._" His words were brash and cruel. The sentence grew louder as it progressed, ending in a bellow. "Does it completely transcend your simple mind, Lucius, that I _might have something better to do_ than pay your household a visit?"

Mr. Malfoy, his hands quivering more than ever, dropped to his knees in front of the Dark Lord. His grey eyes pleaded as they looked into his master's red ones. "My lord, I… I tr-tried to tell Bellatrix th-that you m-mi-might not want.." Voldemort's upper lip curled in revulsion. He withdrew his temporary wand and pointed it at Lucius' neck.

"Shut up! Your family nauseates me. Crucio!" He cried, and beamed with satisfaction as he watched Draco's father writhe and scream in pain. Narcissa's hands covered her eyes in disbelief, though it was obvious she was crying; tears dripped from cheeks to the floor. Draco's grey eyes were filled with emotion as he watched his father constricting with pain. He had backed into the furthest wall, as far as possible from Voldemort. His mouth was quivering, and his eyes were watering. Lucius' screams were just as loud as Hermione's had been earlier that evening.

"Yes… yes.. look at your family, Malfoy. They love you. How touching. It's a shame I'll have to take you away from them now. I just don't think you deserve to live, Lucius. You've caused me too much inconvenience!" Voldemort chimed, his hand gripped firmly on the wand.

"NO!" Narcissa screamed, speaking for the first time. She knew exactly what was going to happen, and she knew that there was nothing that she could do to stop it. Voldemort simply snorted at her response. Bellatrix, who'd been staring at her lord with fascination and awe until this point, closed her dark eyes in exasperation. "That's what you get for marrying a coward, Cissy…" She groaned. "You should be thankful that our merciful lord is ridding you from such a burden!"

Voldemort smiled wickedly. Bellatrix's devotion was admirable. He dropped his arm, and terminated the Cruciatus curse. Lucius, alarmed, stumbled up to his knees. He grasped his wife's hand and squeezed hard. "I love you, Narcissa." He whispered. And then, using all of the strength he possessed to stand, he moved to walk towards his son. His gray eyes had barely met those of Draco when the green light flew across the room and hit him in the middle of his chest. His mouth had opened to say something, but that sentence would never be finished. Lucius Malfoy fell to the floor with the sickening sound of flesh on stone. His mouth lolled open as he lay, dead.

Narcissa fell to the ground beside her husband, laying across his chest and sobbing deeply. Draco, who had been completely silent this whole night, slid down the wall, clutching his own face in his hands.

Voldemort strode from the room, about to Apparate out of the manor. Bellatrix cleared her throat and he stopped. A very audible sigh let her know that she was annoying him.

"My lord, what of the Mudblood?" She asked, licking her lips, "I'd be honored if you'd permit my killing her."

Voldemort was silent for a few minutes before he turned to face his sidekick. "No, no, no Bella. We mustn't murder that which might be valuable to us. Have the Malfoy boy torture her until she divulges to him what the Potter boy is up to. Give him your wand. After that, he will have to kill her. Lock the pair in this house. He will die if he fails to complete the task, as will his mother. It is rare that I give a second chance." Voldemort responded coolly. He vanished from the manor with the familiar 'pop.'

Mrs. Lestrange sighed and rolled her eyes. She reluctantly chucked her own wand at Draco's feet. Bellatrix removed her heel from Hermione's chest and kicked her roughly before moving quickly towards her sister. Narcissa was still huddled over her husband's body, apparently unable to accept the recent events. "Cissy, we're leaving now." Bellatrix said, using all of her might to pull the woman from Lucius' corpse. Narcissa shoved her estranged sister away from her. Her anger towards Bellatrix was palpable.

"You could've stopped that, he listens to you, he would have, you know it.. and now he's dead, my life is over. You are no sister of mine." The blonde widow mumbled while striding slowly to her son. Draco's pale face was completely covered in tears. It had taken only a bit longer than a year for his life to go completely to shit. He reached out for his mom, and she took him inside her arms, stroking the white-blonde hair tenderly. "Draco, my boy, just finish this last task that he's given you. After that we'll leave, I promise you. This will be nothing more than a distant memory.." She cooed, her lips pressed against Draco's temple. He clutched her desperately, knowing that this was the last time he would see his mother for a long while.

"I won't let you down, Mom… I l-love you." He spoke quietly, the first thing he'd uttered since Harry had escaped. Narcissa kissed him deeply on the cheek, clinging desperately to the last moment she'd have with her son. She slowly released him from her arms, and with one last squeeze of his hand, she let him go. She marched towards Bellatrix, sure not to look back at her poor son. Reluctantly, she extended her hand to her sister. Bellatrix turned into darkness, and Narcissa grudgingly followed. Two loud pops echoed on the marble walls as the room emptied.

Hermione looked up, letting out the breath she'd been holding for all of that time. She wiped underneath her eyes with shaking fists, eyes fixed upon Draco. Her body was completely worn. She was covered in dirt, dust, blood, and the like. Her forearm still bled, the wounds Bellatrix had inflicted upon her far from healed. She was an absolute wreck, nothing like the Hermione Granger that she had been at Hogwarts; nothing like the girl who was always well kept, and always one step above everyone else.

Draco started back at the girl. His grey eyes were filled with pain. Choosing to blame all of the horror he'd just experienced on Granger, he grimaced.

"You're going to pay for what you've done to me, Mudblood." He spat, in a tone far different than he'd ever used teasing her in the past. Slowly, the male got to his feet. He picked up Bellatrix's wand with determination, and stepped towards Hermione. His feet inches away from her body, he pointed the wand directly at her heart.

"Spit it out. Now. Everything" He demanded, grey eyes boring into her own brown.


	3. Chapter 3 - Deadlocked

**(Hey, guys! I'm sorry that it has been so long since I've updated this. If you're still reading this story, and actually remember it, then kudos to you! I've had a lot going on, and hope to be more active with this now. I apologize if the flow seems off, as it took me a long time to remember where I was going initially with this topic. It's also been over a year (maybe even two years?) since I wrote, so it may take me a little while to get back in the swing of things. I promise the next few chapters will get better and better. I've got some fun stuff in store. So keep coming back! And thanks for reading, everyone.)**

* * *

"Spit it out. Now. Everything."

Malfoy's harsh words echoed through the empty room. He stood, his hand visibly shaking, the wand fixed unwaveringly on Hermione's heart. His lips quivered as he stared into Ms. Granger's brown eyes, trying to come to terms with what had transpired in the past hour. His entire life had just been stolen from him. His father killed, his mother taken away from him in a time of most desperate need, and a seemingly impossible task, of which he had zero interest, was now his entire life purpose. He couldn't help but feel robbed by the girl who now lay in front of him, his classmate of seven years.

Hermione was drained. The floor surrounding her was covered in her own blood and knotted hair. The wound Bellatrix had inflicted still dripped bright red; a small stream of it ran slowly down her forearm. She couldn't find the energy to move, or to retaliate in any way. Feeling like a ghost of her former self, she gazed back at Draco, finding no comfort in his cold grey eyes.

* * *

"I-," She spoke, her voice a hoarse whisper, "I don't know."

She stared into the tip of the wand that Draco was pointing at her chest, almost wishing that he would just end it all now. Maybe her purpose in this whole ordeal ended now. Maybe she was supposed to be a sacrifice for Harry and the rest, so that they could escape, while she remained behind. They could move forward now. The mental image of Ron and Harry carrying on without her brought tears to her eyes. Their trio of seven years had ended. She was overcome with feelings of loneliness and abandonment. She had no one. A single tear fell from her brown eyes, dropping to the bloodstained floor.

Hermione gathered her strength and stood up. She stood there, shaking, for a moment, her eyes locked with Draco's. It seemed that neither could comprehend their situation.

* * *

Draco was taken aback with the girl's sudden energy to stand and face him. He stood there, wand out, for a moment, not knowing how to approach the task laid out for him. From the corner of his eye he could see his father's body, pale and cold, with the unmistakable look of panic lingering in his now lifeless eyes. Draco's lips trembled, the evening's events flowing through his mind, and he began to shake with anger. His hands quivering with rage, he stepped forward to meet Hermione, brutally shoving the tip of the wand into her chest with all the strength he could muster.

"I knew, you know," he spat, inches from Hermione's face, "The moment I saw Fenrir and his gang of Snatchers dragging you lot to our gate, I knew. Why I didn't out you immediately to Bellatrix, I'll never know. I'll regret that every moment for the rest of my life. It all would have been over. None of this would have happened. I would still have everything," his words grew quieter by the second, now nothing but a murmur, "but you took it all from me. And for that you'll have to pay, Granger."

His eyes scanned the girl. He had never imagined he would see the pretentious, know-it-all, bookworm that he had grown up loathing in such a vulnerable position. Her skin was pale. She had scratches and bruises all over, courtesy of Bellatrix. Her clothes were ripped, covered in dirt. Her hair was tangled; some of it had been ripped out. She was covered in her own blood. The sight upset him in more ways than one. He clenched his empty fist.

"Are you just going to stare at me, Mudblood? Have you got anything to say for yourself? Do you realize what you've done to me?"

* * *

Hermione's heart beat quickened, Draco's proximity causing her to grow anxious. She could feel his anger, sadness, and fear; his emotion was palpable. There was nothing she could do now but stare into his eyes as he spoke, his lips inches from her own; his breath hot and harsh on her face.

One thing, however, confused her. It was clear that Draco was angry, yet she didn't feel as though his anger was focused towards her. She couldn't find malice in his eyes; it didn't seem as though his intent was to harm her, even as the tip of his wand protruded into her chest. _'He must be angry at Voldemort. He must be angry with Bellatrix, with the way that the situation unfolded. He's angry with himself for being born into such evil. He's upset that his father was just killed for no real reason. He doesn't want to hurt me; at least, not yet,' _she thought to herself, her mind beginning to move quickly again, _'my only option here is to sympathize, to use his anger against him, and not against me.'_ Growing taller, and surer of herself, she cleared her throat.

"Draco. It wasn't our intention to harm your family. I'm sure you must be aware of that. We've grown up together. You know that we meant no harm or evil in coming to your home, and that's why you couldn't divulge what you knew to Bellatrix. I'm sorry for what has transpired, but you must look past it. Look now at who the true enemy is. Did Harry, Ron, and I kill your father? Did Harry, Ron, and I take your mother from you?"

Hermione spoke slowly, carefully choosing her words, trying to come across as calm as possible.

"What's happening now is bigger than the pair of us, Draco. There's nothing I can tell you that would aid you in any way. To be honest, Harry, Ron, and I had barely any idea what we were doing out there," she lied, color rising to her cheeks, "we had been wandering for months before we were caught, accomplishing nothing."

* * *

Draco was slightly taken aback when Hermione spoke. The conviction in her voice was surprising, given the circumstances. Though she looked like someone on the verge of death, she still spoke like the Hermione Granger that he had known throughout his childhood. It was somewhat calming to hear her matter-of-fact tone again.

Some time had now passed since she had finished speaking, and the pair stood eye-to-eye yet again.

Draco was unsure of how to react. He didn't know how soon Voldemort or Bellatrix would come knocking, expecting information that he didn't yet have. He didn't know whether they would ever return.

Malfoy Manor was stricken with silence, as the two stood, deadlocked, neither knowing what to do. The girl's words had had more affect on him than he cared to admit. His mind swam with ideas, ways to keep her alive just a bit longer, to draw out this situation in any way possible. He couldn't yet face that he would have to kill her. She was all that remained of his childhood, the only reminder of a less painful life that once was his.

Draco sighed, and pulled back the wand from Hermione's heart, letting it drop from his hands to the ground between them. He knew a wand would be futile here, as neither of them possessed the energy necessary to wield it. He kicked it aside, letting it slide to the end of the room, hitting the wall opposite them with an echoing clank. His eyes shifted now to his dead father.

"Help me bury my father, Granger. Do this, and I'll let you live for the rest of the day," his said, eyes fixed on his father's corpse, "tomorrow, when I'm rested, and my mind's back in the right place, I'll torture you until you're forced to tell me the truth, and then I'll kill you and my life will be what it was before all of this," he said, grey eyes again boring into her, "but do this with me now, and I'll give you all of today and tonight."

The dark of night was beginning to leave, and the white light of sun was barely visible through the stained-glass windows of Malfoy Manor.


	4. Chapter 4 - Distraction

The sun began to rise. The drawing room of the Malfoy Manor was slowly filling with light. What used to be the crown jewel of Draco's home, the room in which every big event of his life had transpired, was littered with remnants of a horrific night.

Lucius Malfoy still lay dead on the floor. The once-grandiose crystal chandelier lay in smashed pieces on the floor, shards of glass everywhere. Hermione's wand lay forgotten about against a far wall. Blood stained the cool marble that Draco had grown up crawling and playing on.

It was a cold spring morning, close to Easter Sunday. Draco had come home from Hogwarts for the Easter holiday. He hadn't expected to be robbed of his family and home.

He had offered to spare the girl's life for just one day, in exchange for her help in burying his father. He wasn't entirely sure of the reasoning behind this decision; it wouldn't be difficult to kill the girl and bury his dead father himself. But something inside of him was stopping him. He was delaying Hermione's death, though he didn't understand why. He had grown up despising her, hadn't he?

* * *

"Fine."

Hermione spoke quietly, still face to face with Draco. The chilliness of the morning caused her breath to be visible, and goose bumps began forming along her arms and legs.

Draco's eyes pierced her own with an intense look. He seemed perplexed, as though fighting a battle with himself. It made sense, as Hermione was also confused; Draco had yet to lay a single hand on her, and he had dropped the wand as casually as if he had never been intending to use it against her in the first place.

"Shall we?" Hermione asked, her eyes glancing suggestively from Draco to his father's body. Draco, as though suddenly coming back to reality, blinked a few times before solemnly nodding, breaking his eye contact with Hermione. He turned his back to her and walked slowly to Lucius. Hermione followed cautiously.

From behind, Hermione could see Draco begin to shake, as he got closer to his father. She could hear shallow breaths, and assumed that he was holding back tears. When he finally reached Lucius, Draco fell to his knees beside his dead father, clutching his lifeless hand in his own. He was crying.

He stayed like that for some time, his head between his knees, hands grasping to Lucius', and his entire body shaking with emotion. For what seemed like hours, Hermione stood, watching with anguish this tragic scene.

* * *

He could feel her presence behind him, but it didn't bother him. Draco knew that Hermione wouldn't try to escape. There wasn't anywhere she could go. Deep inside, Draco was grateful to have someone else there with him; he couldn't imagine being left alone with his deceased father in what was now a ghost of his former home. And so he mourned.

When finally, his tears began to slow, and his breath started to come back to him, Draco spoke.

"Now. Outside, by the fountain."

He reluctantly let go of his father's hand, and stood up. Avoiding Hermione's eyes, he motioned for her to take Lucius' legs, and she obliged. The pair lifted his father, with some struggle, and as gently as possible, carried him from the disgraced drawing room. They walked through a grandiose hallway, which was dimly lit, its walls covered with portraits of previous family members. Their painted eyes suspiciously followed the duo.

It was a quiet and solemn walk; neither Draco nor Hermione spoke. Finally, they came to the entrance hall. The giant front door, which was enchanted, swung open when Draco approached. The bitter cold of morning blew inside, and Draco shivered. They continued walking, down the stone path through the Malfoy's courtyard, past the white peacocks, past the fountain. Draco's eyes began to swim with tears, memories of his youth flooding back to him, days of playing outside with his father, before the troubles of growing up had plagued him.

They turned now to a clear patch of grass, far from the manor, but still a ways from the gate to the property.

"Here."

Draco and Hermione set down Lucius' body on the cool earth.

"Don't move. I'll be right back." Draco said, turning from Hermione and walking back inside the house, to retrieve a pair of shovels. He returned, and the pair silently began to dig.

It took hours, and morning quickly turned to mid-day. Finally the grave was dug, and without another word, Draco and Hermione placed Lucius inside, and covered the grave. He marked the spot with a rock taken from the courtyard's path.

Through all of this time he still hadn't made eye contact with Hermione.

* * *

When the grave was finally finished, Hermione set down her shovel and glanced towards the entrance to the property. The wrought-iron gates separating her from freedom were easy to spot in the distance. Her mind still raced with potential paths out of this hell.

"Draco, don't you think we ought to test the gates?" She asked, staring at Draco, though he looked past her, avoiding eye contact.

"There might be a way out for both of us."

* * *

Hermione's question was irritating. Draco smirked, and a hint of his old cunning self shone through his miserable exterior.

"Granger, honestly. I thought you were smart. If the Dark Lord says we're locked in, we're locked in on pain of death. He's not an imbecile," Draco spoke harshly, letting the escape of cruelty ease his mental burden, "now get back inside and don't ask any more idiotic questions, fucking useless Mudblood."

He turned on his heel, and walked back to his home, hearing Hermione's quiet steps behind him. The sun was beginning to lower in the sky, and Draco guessed it was about 3 or 4 in the afternoon. The two walked back inside, and the giant doors shut behind them.

They stood in silence in the entry hall, side by side. Neither knew where to go from here. Draco had promised Hermione life through the night, and he planned to adhere to that promise. He was unsure of how to approach such a grim situation.

* * *

Hermione sighed. The distraction of Lucius had lasted almost half the day, and she hadn't had to face the misery of the night until now. It was growing dark, and the house was becoming cold. The lack of light was unsettling. After what felt like five or ten minutes of standing in silence, Hermione spoke.

"Don't you think we should start a fire somewhere? Or make some food? You promised me one night, and I think the last night of my life should be at least somewhat comfortable, Malfoy. After all we've been through." Her voice was quiet, yet strong. She knew that he would oblige. Something was to be said for the fact that Draco couldn't look her in the eyes. There had to be some kind of pity deep inside of him. She just had to find it.

* * *

Draco, relieved that the silence was broken, nodded.

He led Hermione to his own bedroom. The only room he could feel comfortable in, as it hadn't been touched by anyone other than him. Hues of silver and green were recognizable everywhere, his house colors clearly something that prided him. In the corner of the room there was a large marble fireplace, which, with a simple wave of the hand went up in flames. As the fire grew, the room got warmer, and both Draco and Hermione felt able to relax.

Draco sat now at the end of his bed, staring into the flames, lost in thought. He could see the girl in the corner of his eye, standing awkwardly next to the fire, waiting for some sort of interaction. _'She still looks like hell,' _he thought, _'I suppose I can let her clean herself up while I'm deciding what to do next.' _

"My bathroom's just down the hall. Though I doubt a shower could make you look any less pathetic, go ahead and clean yourself before you get you filth all over my house." Draco said, with a harsh tone, still avoiding eye contact with Ms. Granger. When she didn't move, he motioned with his arm towards the hall.

"Go, Granger. Get the fuck out."


	5. Chapter 5 - Renewal

***First of all, I just wanted to say thanks to everyone for getting me to 50+ followers! I think it's wonderful that you all like this story as much as I do. I've got some pretty exciting ideas for the next few chapters! I'd love to hear your thoughts so review, review, and review! Oh, and of course none of these characters belong to me. Thanks everyone for reading! Love you all!***

* * *

Hermione, who had just been all but kicked out of Draco's room, meandered down the dark and unwelcoming hall of the Malfoy Manor. Her every move was followed by the eyes of portraits of who she assumed were relatives of Draco's; their silent, disapproving gazes were unsettling. She soon came to the bathroom, and, sensing her presence, a dim light in the ceiling appeared. As the room lit up, Hermione's eyes widened. The bathroom was made of beautiful marble, with a large golden tub in the corner. The sheer size and lavishness of the room was astounding; she couldn't believe that this was the place that Draco called home.

She passed by a large, diamond-encrusted mirror, and nearly jumped when she saw her appearance. Her hair was knotted and having not been cut in months, fell down past her shapely chest. Her face was covered in dirt, soot, and blood. Months of traveling with Harry and Ron had left her much thinner then she had realized, and her face had an overall look of exhaustion to it. She let out a melancholy sigh, and began to disrobe, making a point not to look back in the mirror. Hermione turned the bathwater on, and watched the tub fill rapidly with water and bubbles of all colors and consistencies. The resemblance to the familiar Prefect's bathroom of Hogwarts was almost too much for Hermione to bear, and her eyes began to water.

'_Those were simpler times, Hermione. Wishing to return to Hogwarts again is a stupid idea. Stop filling your mind with useless dreams.' _She thought, shaking her head at her own stupidity. The bath was full now, and Hermione stepped in, letting the warmth and comfort overtake her. It had been months since she'd had a shower, and to have one of such luxury was miraculous. As she cleaned herself, she considered her situation.

Would Harry and Ron come back for her? Would they risk their own safety for her? Had they returned to Hogwarts yet, or found any more Horcruxes? She wished that there were some way for the trio to correspond. She had never felt so alone in her entire life. Stuck in a dark and cold mansion with her nemesis of seven years, who was to kill her the next day, at risk of his own death? What was Draco making of all of this? She could tell that he didn't want to kill her or torture her. If he'd been able to, he'd have already done it. Perhaps the biggest question in her mind had been nagging at her since the morning; why was Draco keeping her alive? Why had he made an excuse to not kill, not interrogate, or even harm her?

* * *

Draco sat alone in his room, the silence and solitude swallowing him. Stormy eyes stared into the fire's flames as he again tried to wrap his mind around what had become of his life. Stuck here, trapped alone in a ghost of his former home, with the Mudblood he'd grown up despising more than anyone. She was a member of a trio who stood for everything that he was against. Why had he been born into this unfortunate life?

He could hear Granger splashing around in his bathroom. The thought of a Mudblood in his own home was enough to give him shivers, and the image of her dirtying up his ornate and beautiful tub made him scowl. To distract himself from the sickening present, Draco ventured into the kitchen and grabbed a loaf of bread, some cheese, and fruit, all of which he assumed were supposed to be part of their family's Easter dinner. So much for that. Returning to his room, Draco grew irritated again with Granger. It seemed like it had been hours since she had left.

"Granger, what the fuck are you doing in there? I didn't tell you to take a fucking spa day. Stop dirtying my bathroom with your Mudblood filth and get out." He yelled from his room, his voice echoing through the hall. He could hear her say something in an irritated tone, and then heard the sounds of water draining. Draco smirked, sprawled himself on top of his bed, and began to eat.

* * *

Hermione, feeling revitalized from her bath, stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked more like herself, if only a slightly gaunt version. Her cheeks were flushed with color from the steam of the room. The thought of dressing in the grimy clothes she'd been wearing for weeks made her shudder. Instead, she opted for a silk bathrobe hanging from the door.

'_What the hell. Could he really hate me more?' _She thought, deciding not to worry about Draco's reaction to her attire. If this was really her last night alive, she thought she had better enjoy it. _'I have nothing to lose. Let me upset the ignorant bastard while I still can. I doubt he'll do anything about it.'_

She returned to Draco's room, and was met by Malfoy's glare almost immediately. His face contorted with rage as he realized what she was wearing. In the blink of an eye, he'd sprung from his bed and grabbed her by the wrists, pushing her forcefully against the wall. Hermione had underestimated the man's strength. He was taller, bigger, and painfully stronger than her. His stormy grey eyes bore into her; his pure, unadulterated hatred was clear in his stare.

* * *

"I would kill you right now, Mudblood, if I hadn't left my wand in the drawing room this morning." Draco spat in Hermione's face, his body shaking with rage. How dare she taint his belongings with her inferior body? He used all of his force to push Granger into the wall, his hands gripping her wrists with an incredible intensity. He could see the pain in her eyes. He could feel her fear. It made him powerful. It gave him strength.

He loosened his grip on her, and stepped back. The girl's audible sigh of relief infuriated him. Draco turned suddenly, his rage uncontrollable, and slapped Hermione with all of his might. She screamed, and enjoying the release, Draco did it again. And again. Until he could no longer summon the strength. He turned away from her now, and went back to his bed. He heard the girl weeping, and could see her huddled figure lying across from him on the floor. He pretended not to notice, continuing to eat and stare into the fire as if she wasn't there. She was pathetic.


	6. Chapter 6 - Aftermath

*** I'm sorry for the darkness of the last chapter. I'm being a bit of realist in that I can't see Draco and Hermione getting together in the few hours after their lives have all but been destroyed. And, after all, this tale is becoming quite a bit depressing. It's not really meant to be a happy love story. Anyways, I'm rambling. Sometimes I drink wine while writing, and I become too chatty for my own good. Thank you, pink moscato. Enjoy this chapter! Review, follow, rate, and whatever else! Xoxo! And while I'm at it, I apologize for the brevity of this chapter. I couldn't really find a better end point. Oops. ***

* * *

Hermione was broken. Completely and utterly broken. Her cheeks were red and raw, still stinging with the pain inflicted by Malfoy. She hadn't anticipated that he would lay a hand on her in such a barbaric way. Tears rolled uncontrollably down her face. It wasn't so much sadness that plagued her, but hopelessness. She glanced at Draco. His expression was smug, but she could see that his mind was racing just as much as hers.

She knew it wasn't in her best interest to engage the boy any further, but as the night was growing dark, she didn't see another choice.

"If you really wanted to kill me, Draco, you'd have done it by now." She saw him flinch at her use of his first name, but still he appeared unable to hear her or see her. "Something's holding you back, isn't it?" She asked, pulling herself up to sit against the wall. "What is it?"

The silver-haired boy remained still, staring ahead. Hermione almost thought she heard him groan. It wasn't going to be easy to get a response out of him. She kept pushing.

"Is it because we've known each other for so long? Or maybe you don't full-heartedly believe in what Voldemort is fighting for. Maybe you feel as though your family has strung you along, against your will. Maybe you're just a coward. A failure. But then of course, we both know better than anyone that you are a failure. You couldn't carry out the one task assigned to you by Voldemort, could you? A disappointment to yourself, your family, and everyone you know."

Hermione's words were harsh, like venom. She could see them affecting Draco like poison; he flinched with every sentence that came out of her mouth. Slowly, Malfoy averted his gaze from the fire and locked his eyes with Hermione. The stare was severe.

* * *

"How dare you make assumptions about me, Granger. I thought beating you would shut your grimy mouth. Don't ever speak of my family again, or I promise you it will be the last thing you do." Draco began, speaking quietly and slowly, his tone exasperated. He wanted to let loose his burden on her, to explain to her everything that had haunted him for the past years. He'd never shown his misery to anyone.

The night was growing late, and he was exhausted. Draco's mind moved now to the wand that was laying untouched in the drawing room; he'd been so foolish to leave it behind. There was nothing he could do now, for retrieving it would give both of them a chance, and he wasn't sure he had any leverage over Granger magically.

"I hope you don't think that Potter and the blood-traitor Weasley will be back for you, Mudblood. No one's coming for you, or for me. I doubt the Dark Lord will return. This must be my punishment. To be trapped with the lousy excuse of a witch that I hate most. And maybe you're right, maybe I am a coward. I couldn't kill Dumbledore, and I can't kill you. No matter how much you piss me off. No matter how much I wish you were dead."

Malfoy spoke honestly now, his words growing softer. It was true; he didn't have the capacity to end another's life. Perhaps if he did, his father's life would have been spared, and all would have been forgiven.

He lazily threw Hermione the remains of the food he had brought, and she began to eat. She remained silent, yet didn't break eye contact. Draco could see the red marks he had left on her face, and the agony that still clouded her eyes. Yet she didn't retaliate. Why?

* * *

Bread, cheese, and fruit, though such a simple meal, felt orgasmic on Hermione's tongue. It had been a long time since she'd last had anything to eat, and the fullness of her stomach was welcomed. She listened to Malfoy ramble on, though nothing he said was a surprise to her. She, too, was unsure that anyone would ever return to Malfoy Manor. Perhaps this was where she would grow old, where she would be stuck forever. It was an uncomfortable thought.

"I think that your inability to end a life says a lot about your character." Hermione said. "Sure, you're a despicable git, but at least you're a git with a conscience. The same can't be said for most on your side."

She quickly gobbled down the last of the food. She hadn't felt this full, or clean, in days. No matter how awful the circumstance was, the comforts were still pleasant. Malfoy, clearly taken aback by her last comments, was silent. The pair sat in silence for some time as the night wore on. Hermione's lids began to grow heavy, and the exhaustion crept up on her. The crackling of the fire was like a lullaby, and she couldn't keep awake any longer.

Though unaware of her safety in slumber, Hermione didn't care. Life didn't seem so precious any more. And so she let sleep take her.


	7. Chapter 7 - Awakening

**- Alright, y'all. I apologize. A lot. Sometimes life happens and you forget that you have a story online that people read and want to keep reading. I'm home now for the rest of the summer, and have endless free time (and lots of ideas) so you'll be seeing more of me. I feel like I'm finally starting to realize where I'm going with this story, and I think you'll all really enjoy it. Enjoy is a relative term, though. I never said it'd be happy. Sorry. But it won't all be sad. Pinky promise. In other news, if you guys are fans of Lord of the Rings (which who isn't?) I humbly suggest that you check out my new story, 'Eden Amarth'. It's kind of a romance/love triangle/adventure/tragedy all mixed into one glorious retelling of my favorite fantasy story ever. And it's got a bad ass female. No Mary Sues here. Okay, I'm finished with the self-promotion. Let me know what you all think of this chapter and I hope everyone enjoys! I absolutely live for hearing your input! Thanks and thanks and thanks again. xoxo Elle. -**

With the dawn came a cold breeze that shook Draco awake from his sleep. Goosebumps forming on his pale skin, he sat up, hesitating to open his eyes. If he kept his eyes closed, maybe he'd never have to be confronted with the situation at hand. If he kept his eyes closed, he could pretend he was just at home with his family. He could be at peace. However, the present is and always will be inescapable. There's no sense in living in the past or in a future that may never come to pass. Draco slowly opened his eyes, and with a lazy scan of the room he discovered that Granger was gone.

Panicking now, he jumped out of bed. His first thought was the wand. Draco ran, clumsily, exhaustedly, to the drawing room. "Oh fuck me, Granger." Draco sighed, grimacing. The wand was gone. Still no sign of Hermione, and nothing but silence could be heard throughout the house. He walked carefully through the manor, stopping and checking every single room, but found no sign of Granger. He had stopped in the foyer, to catch his breath, when out of the corner of his eye he saw something move outside of a window that looked out on the courtyard.

* * *

Hermione stood at the gates of the Malfoy Manor, coaxing the abandoned wand to perform well for her. She had been up for hours, practicing charms, working hard to master Bellatrix's wand. The attempts to reveal whatever spells Voldemort had placed on the manor, the spells that prevented the pair from leaving, were to no avail. The sun had now fully risen and she hadn't made any progress.

"Granger, who the fuck do you think you are? You think you can just take Bellatrix Lestrange's wand for yourself, and tramp about my courtyards all morning? You think you can perform your Mudblood magic on the grounds of my house?" Draco's voice rang through the silence of the morning, and Hermione jumped. She hadn't heard him approach. She whipped around to face Malfoy, pointing the wand at his heart.

"For your information, Draco, I have been working for hours trying to decipher the type of enchantment that Voldemort has placed on this house. I have been trying to find us both a way out of this fate while you slept all morning. I hardly think I deserve a greeting of such harsh words." Hermione spoke, matter-of-factedly. "You're hardly a threat to me."

She had been mulling over the evening's events all morning. Her face was significantly bruised from Draco's repeated bashes, and her lips swollen. She now knew that Draco wasn't going to kill her, and he wasn't going to torture her. She knew that he didn't have the stomach. And this gave her leverage over the Malfoy boy. Now they had time. Time to figure out how to best handle this situation before the inevitable return of Bellatrix or Voldemort.

* * *

Draco regarded the Granger girl carefully, taking a moment to fully assess the damage he'd done to her face. She looked like hell. And it was all his fault. Of course, she'd deserved it, hadn't she? Doesn't anyone deserve to be beaten for making a mockery of someone's family, of someone's status? He knew that his father or mother wouldn't be upset about it. But something deep inside of him felt awful. He felt like a pathetic excuse for a human.

"Alright, woman, save your smart-ass shit for someone who hasn't just woken up to an empty house and missing wand." Draco said, running a hand through his unkempt silver hair and sighing. "You didn't figure anything out then? No escape?" He implored, grey eyes searching her face.

He could tell by the face she pulled next that she hadn't been able to decipher anything about the enchantments. The girl groaned and shook her head. "No, Malfoy, I haven't. Bellatrix's wand isn't working perfectly for me. I feel like it's got horrible intentions. It's completely unyielding." She said, and stared down at the wand in her hands.

Draco stepped closer to Granger, and in an instant grabbed the wand from her. To his surprise, she didn't object or try to retrieve it.

"No more taking this, alright? Fucking ask me for Christ's sakes. If you're going to do your bookworm know-it-all bullshit, at least let me know before I run around the grounds like a madman thinking you've all but abandoned the place." He spat the words in her face, turning around and striding back inside the manor.

* * *

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she watched Draco return to the house with the wand in his hands. She didn't know if he had noticed, but something about his last statement was incredible.

'-like a madman thinking you've all but abandoned the place.' The words ran over and over through her mind, each time making her stomach turn in knots. Had he really been so upset because he'd thought she'd abandoned him? She had assumed his reason for anger was that she had a wand and could harm him. This new development showed (most unintentionally on Draco's part) what was becoming of the way he felt for Granger. She could see it. He was thinking of her as an equal, now, as a partner in this tragic scenario. It seemed he had completely abandoned any idea of harming her.

Her stomach still churning with nerves, Hermione followed Draco back into the house. Her eyes were alight with the smallest hint of something. Something she'd thought she'd never feel towards Malfoy.


	8. Chapter 8 - Visitors

**- Thanks all of you new followers! I woke up so happy to see at least 10 new people favoriting and following. It means so much, and I could never thank y'all enough! Keep reviewing and faving and following and all that good stuff. Makes my day. Anyway, enjoy the chapter! Sorry for the brevity of it! It's kind of at a middle point in my story, where nothing's really going on. Nothing crazy, anyways. The next chapter's gonna be filled with new developments and things. I just couldn't put them here. I wanted to take a moment to let the two think about the situation, about possible ways out, their feelings, and all of that gushy stuff. I'm working on Chapter 9 right now and I'm planning on having it up later this evening! Love you all and thanks for reading! xoxo- Elle! -**

In a situation like this, it's near impossible to tell what your true feelings are. Was Draco starting to lighten up to Hermione because he had never given her a chance in the past? Or was it simply because the two were stranded somewhere together? Was he just subconsciously trying to fill the voids created by Voldemort with the only living thing in his vicinity?

Draco sat silently in the kitchen, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His mind raced, anxiously trying to define the emotions flooding through him. It was his job to kill the Granger girl. He was supposed to be torturing her now, coaxing information from her about Potter's plans. And yet she was still alive. She was almost completely unharmed, save for a few bruises to the face. Shit, if he felt so terrible about hitting the girl last night, there was no way he'd ever be able to harm her in the future.

Eyes rising, Draco watched Hermione enter the room. She took an apple, and leaned against the wall, eyes fixed on his.

"Well, Granger. How do we get out of this?" Draco asked.

"You expect me to know?" Hermione responded, "Since it seems we cannot leave by apparation or even just walking out, I would imagine the best thing to do is practice with the wand. Maybe that way we'll have a chance against whomever it is that comes to check on us first.. although since we clearly have opposing views in this war.. we'll never be able to help one another. And that makes us pretty helpless."

* * *

Hermione observed the Malfoy boy sitting across from her. He looked like a mess. He still shook with anxiety about his father's death. Huge bags under his grey eyes. His hair was dirty and unkempt. He looked nothing like the perfectly groomed, snobby albeit handsome boy that was so admired at Hogwarts. The Malfoy family had clearly been affected the worst by Voldemort's return, of all families involved with the dark side.

Though she wished she wouldn't, in her heart she knew she couldn't blame Draco for attacking her the previous night. He hadn't done it out of hatred for her. He'd done it out of necessity, from not knowing how to process the flood of emotions that flew through him. She'd never forgive him for it, but she knew she couldn't let that hinder the progress the two were making. If there was to be a way out of this hell, it was only going to come if the pair learned to work together.

Draco remained silent after Hermione finished speaking. He looked upset. After a long silence shared between the two, he finally cleared his throat.

"Don't forget that I despise you Granger, and everything you stand for. Never forget that your blood is a filthy disgrace to the wizarding world." He started, as if trying to make his family proud by staying firm in their beliefs. "It's inevitable that someone comes here. I don't know if that'll be my aunt Bellatrix, my mom, or the dark lord himself, but whoever it is will be unwilling to reason. They'll expect me to have answers from you, and you to be dead. If they see you alive and me without any knowledge of Potter's doings, they'll kill us both. We can only hope it's my mom that comes, as she'll be slightly less lethal.."

Hermione shuddered. The thought of Bellatrix returning to the manor was enough to make her hair stand on end.

"You don't know that, Draco. Harry and Ron could be out there now, trying to figure this out, trying to save me. They'd take pity on you, you know, even though you've treated them so horribly in the past. They'd get us both out of here." She said. A warmth flooded through her as memories of Ron and Harry passed through her mind.

"That's not bloody likely and you know it, Granger. Can't you get that imbucile elf that ruined everything for my family to come back? Get him to transport us the fuck out of here?"

"I'm not so sure he survived, Draco. Your aunt threw a dagger at him as they were disapparating. Even so, he doesn't belong to us, and we have no way of communicating with anyone."

Hermione sighed. A cold winter breeze blew through the windows, chilling the pair to their bones. She hugged herself.

* * *

"This is fucking dismal. I suppose we just await our inevitable death then, Granger."

Malfoy was pissed off. He stood up briskly, and left the room. The feeling of hopelessness was unavoidable. It seemed like there was absolutely nothing that could help them. Granger had made that quite clear. He felt like a sitting duck, waiting to get shot. A cow waiting to be slaughtered.

The worst part of it all was that if he had the balls, he could end all of it. If he killed the girl, everything would be forgiven. He'd be able to go back with his mother, to escape this war, and his father's misdoings would be considered paid for. And yet he couldn't. He wasn't able to kill Dumbledore. He didn't reveal Potter when he first got to the manor. He never did anything right. Something inside of him wouldn't let him.

He'd never hated himself more.

The pair avoided each other for the rest of the day, each too upset to engage in any further discussion.

As the sun began to set, Draco's eyelids grew heavier. He was about to let sleep take him, when something completely unexpected happened.

-THUD-

A loud crash echoed through the house. Something had just crashed on the roof. Loudly. It was followed almost immediately by another crash.

"What the fuck?!" Draco jumped up, and sprinted to the kitchen where Granger still was. She stood there, eyes wide, staring out the window with fear. Her arm quivering, she pointed to the garden beside the window.

"Something fell... two things.. there.." Hermione whispered. Her body shook uncontrollably.

Without thinking, Draco pushed Granger to the side and stood in front of her, unconsciously protecting her. He hesitated before walking cautiously to the window to investigate.

"Bloody hell, what the fuck is this?"


	9. Chapter 9 - New Developments

**- Hello! Hi new followers and hi everyone! Thanks so much for your interest. I adore you all. I'm sorry if you guys don't agree but this is my favorite part so far of this story. I just sobbed inside when I was writing it. Draco and Hermione are too much fun to write. I hope you all enjoy! I hope to have the next chapter up by tomorrow. Review and favorite if you please! Endless thanks for reading. xo Elle. -**

Two owls lay dead at the floor of the Malfoy's garden. In each of their beaks lay a crumpled envelope.

"It's owls, Granger. Two owls carrying letters." Draco said grimly. "They must've died crossing the boundaries of the house's enchantments." He opened the front door and retrieved the letters from the owls' beaks. One addressed to him, one addressed to Granger. There were no return addresses.

Coming back inside, he handed Hermione the letter addressed to her. He stuffed his own in his pocket.

"Now we know what happens if anything tries to come or leave this place." He said. "This is shit."

Hermione felt awful. Two animals had died for no reason just trying to be a help to whomever sent these messages. She couldn't help but feel responsible for their demise. She regarded Draco with teary eyes, the distress visible on her face.

"Let's both stay in here while we read them. In case something happens. Don't go." She pleaded, fear creeping over her. These messages could be enchanted or hexed. They could be their undoing. She turned her envelope over in her hands, trying to get a feel for what was inside. "I say we open them now. Let's just get it over with."

Draco nodded and pulled his letter out. He sat across from her at the kitchen table. Together they pulled out two long messages.

_Draco-_

_I don't know how this message will find you. I don't know if this owl will even be able to pass into our home. I'm hopeful._

_It's only been a few days since I left you, but things are getting intense here. The dark lord's power is changing. With each passing hour he becomes more angry, more desperate to get his hands on the Potter boy. _

_Draco, I need you to take what I say seriously now. I know that you're upset about dad. Believe me, there hasn't been a moment since it happened that I haven't been distraught. You've been assigned with a task, yet again, that I know you'll have a hard time performing. You must be strong, son. You must torture the Mudblood girl. You must learn what Potter's plans are. Find out what he's doing. Get details. And then kill her. _

_This is your final chance to prove yourself to him, Draco. He won't be merciful should you fail. Bellatrix taunts me constantly. She believes you don't have the guts to do it. She intensely desires to pay you a visit, to do the job herself and leave both you and the girl dead._

_We're on the move every hour of the day. I can't be contacted. You don't have much time. There will be someone sent there to retrieve information and bring you back to me in the next day or two. If they arrive to see the girl living, and you without any information, they won't hesitate. You will die._

_You must put aside your personal feelings. Don't think about what you're doing. There's no other way. You must come back to me. _

_Only then can we escape this hell._

_Always thinking of you, my son. I love you immeasureably. Be strong._

_Make him proud._

_Mom_

Draco read the letter over three more times after that, his eyes starting to water. A tear fell from his pale cheeks, onto the parchment, making the ink run. He set down the letter on the kitchen table, and covered his face with his hands, silently sobbing. He was broken. Granger's presence didn't affect him as it usually did, and he didn't care about being seen as weak around her. He sobbed and sobbed, completely unaware of the night passing on around them.

* * *

_ 'Mione,_

_I fought with Ron for hours about whether or not to write you. He was so sure that there's no chance you're alive. I think he's too scared to face the fact that you're gone, so he's shunning all emotion. He loves you, Hermione. Deeply._

_I remain optimistic. I know you're still alive and fighting. The Malfoy's are no match for your intelligence and spirit. Keep going. You're the smartest witch in our year. Probably the brightest that Hogwarts has ever seen. We're trying to find a way to get to you. We haven't slept at all. Been up all night assessing the situation._

_Dobby took us to Bill and Fleur's shell cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth. It's a safe house for the Order. We're safe here. Never worry about us, 'Mione. I'm so sad to tell you that Dobby passed. Bellatrix threw a dagger at us as we disapparated, and it struck him. I suppose we should be happy that he died with friends, and as a free elf. However I can't help but feel responsible. This is grief I'll carry with me for a long time._

_We're toying with the idea of breaking in to the Lestrange vault at Gringotts to try and get our hands on some of the rest of the horcruxes. Hogwarts, too, seems inevitable. I have a sinking feeling that Hogwarts will be the place where everything ends, just as it was where all of this began. I hope you can be there with us. We need you._

_If there's a wand there, Hermione, you must master it. Don't let Draco use it. Practice as much as you can. Use your mind. Check the manor for a library, or books about dark magic. Maybe you can find a way out of there. Maybe you can figure out how to reverse whatever protection Voldemort's got that won't allow you to leave._

_Finally, I must beg of you one thing. Never trust Draco Malfoy. I've been dealing with him for seven years, Hermione. I know that he's a coward, and that there's no way he's tortured you and hurt you, but don't underestimate him. He'll do anything to get back to his family, and get out of this war. To him, that's more important than anything else. I wouldn't put it past him to kill you if it comes down to it. You must only look after yourself. If you find a way to escape, do not tell him. Do not take him. Please._

_It's getting late, and Fleur's calling us all to eat. It's so kind of them to let me use their owl. He'll know the way back, if he survives and the letter gets to you. Write me if you can. _

_Keep fighting, and I love you always._

_We'll never stop fighting to get you back-_

_Harry_

Hermione smiled. It was nice to know that they were safe for the time being. At least there was some good in all of this. They'd never quit. The good feelings began to fade, however, as she thought of Dobby's sacrifice. The situation had just become immeasurably more heavy.

Harry's warning about Draco was odd. It seemed as though he'd been reading her mind, or somehow knowing that she was softening towards Malfoy. Harry was probably right though, Draco was untrustworthy and cared nothing for her. She thought as much.

She stole a quick glance at Draco, who sat across from her, his head in his hands. He was crying. The letter must have been from his mother, she thought, as she had seen how family affected the boy in the past.

"Is she okay?" Hermione asked quietly.

"It's none of your bloody business, Mudblood." Draco shot back, between sobs. He pulled his hands from his face and looked back at Granger. His face was contorted with some indefinable emotion. His eyes raged at her, as though she was the source of all of the problems in the world.

"Brilliant, Draco. Your anger truly helps with getting out of here. Ass." Hermione retorted, and she stood up, turning away from Draco, pocketing Harry's letter.

She had barely taken a step away when she felt Draco's cold hands on her shoulders.

* * *

Draco slammed the girl into the wall, his hands on her shoulders with a vice-like grip. Her brown eyes bore into his with a bored stare. She was clearly sick of his temper.

"You.." Draco began, his voice quivering with fury. "You ruin fucking everything, Granger. Why wouldn't you just escape with your stupid friends? Why am I now responsible for you?"

"You should've just killed me right after Bellatrix and your mom left. You're making it hard for yourself. You're so thick." Hermione answered, calmly. "I know you won't do anything, Draco. I know you don't have the darkness in your soul to take someone's life. You're different than they are. And you know that."

"Piss off. You know nothing about me." Draco said with spite. The few inches between the two was filled with tension. Both of them were holding back. Unaddressed emotions longed to be set free, and fear of the coming days was palpable between them. Anxiety, helplessness, and panic cause us to do strange things.

And maybe it was the fear that caused Draco to bring his lips to Hermione's. Maybe it was the anxiety that caused Hermione to kiss him back. Maybe it was the panic that caused them to cling to one another, desperately trying to close any remaining space between their bodies.

Or maybe they were simply doing something that should have been done years ago.


	10. Chapter 10 - Cold

**Hi Hi! I know I've been writing so much lately, and I hope it continues! I have so many ideas for this story and am just in a hurry to get it moving. **

**Meow I love Dramione. **

**Review/Follow/Favorite!**

**Thank you all for reading!**

**Look for 11 coming very very soon.**

* * *

_You've gone completely bonkers._

_Wonderful, Hermione, you're kissing the person who's sworn to kill you and hates you along with everything that you stand for._

_The snarky ignorant asshole who's devoted his time at Hogwarts to ruining your life._

_Brilliant._

Draco's arms snaked around her waist, drawing her closer to him, a sense of urgency to his movements. Years of quidditch had molded strong and capable muscles.

_He's not ugly by any means. He's just the most pathetic creature you know. _

Hermione closed her eyes, losing herself for just a moment in the embrace. She couldn't deny that the contact after such an anxiety-filled few days was intoxicating. But where was this coming from? Were the pair simply trying to fill a void?

Or was this something more?

"Malfoy-" Hermione sighed into the blonde's mouth. She pulled back a few inches from his face, studying his expression and waiting for the inevitable moment that he snapped back to reality.

The pale grey eyes in front of her slowly changed from foggy and lust-filled, and as he came back to the present, realizing the situation, they were once again the stormy and hate-filled eyes she had known for years.

* * *

Draco was horrified.

He stepped away from Hermione, his face riddled with disgust.

"What are you playing at, Mudblood?" He asked, panicked. Of course he knew that he had started it all, had been the one to make the first move, to make contact. But it was wrong. He felt dirty. Embarrassed.

He imagined his father's reaction. His dead father. Tears once again welled within his eyes. He'd be disowned for this. Granger was below him. Granger was a lesser being. Granger was no better than dirt. This is what he had been taught his entire life. If this was true, why did she make him feel this way?

Why did the sensation of her skin upon his create sparks?

Why did her lips upon his relax him?

Why did he want so incredibly to touch her again?

Why did a Mudblood ignite something within him that he'd never felt before?

_Something's wrong with me. I've gone mental. I don't deserve to be alive. No person of my status should ever feel this way towards a Mudblood. I've ruined my purity._

He couldn't draw his eyes from Hermione. Though her face was still riddled with bruises, marks he still hadn't forgiven himself for inflicting on her, she was beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed, and lips slightly swollen from the contact. She still breathed heavily, clearly still affected by his presence. Her hair fell over her shoulders, tapering out above her shapely breasts. He'd never seen her in this way before. She suddenly seemed human.

"I knew you weren't like them, Malfoy." Hermione said simply, relaxing against the kitchen wall.

Draco scoffed.

She watched his eyes dart back and forth, up and down her body. She could see his conflicted-ness all over his face.

"You don't know what I am, Granger. Don't act like such an insufferable know-it-all." He spat at her, rolling his eyes.

"I'm getting sick of your pitiful and ignorant façade. Why you aspire to be such a cruel and intolerant person escapes me." She shot back.

Hermione knew that the Malfoy she was talking to now wasn't the true one. She knew that he wasn't as awful as the rest of the Death Eaters. He wasn't like his family. He was simply in way over his head. However, cowardice wasn't something that she could ever understand. She knew that when Bellatrix, Voldemort, or whomever came knocking, Draco would do anything to save himself. He wouldn't bat an eye towards her. Not unless she could convince him to sway.

He'd been the one to kiss her. He'd been the one to seek the comfort of her touch.

Maybe Hermione was too much of an overachiever, but she felt that this was something she could do.

_I'll take it upon myself. I haven't got long. I'll show him that Muggle-borns are people that matter just as much as he does. I won't waste this time, whether it be mere hours or many days. _

She stole a glance at the kitchen's clock.

It was a quarter past one. Half of the night had already escaped them, and she could feel the exhaustion creeping up on her.

She eyed the wand that Draco had forgotten about, laying by the letters on the kitchen table.

* * *

"You won't be sleeping anywhere near me tonight, Granger. Find somewhere to go, and don't touch anything that belongs to my family. Don't fucking bother me. And don't run off." Draco said rudely, as he turned on his heel and walked to his bedroom. He slammed the door behind him.

The house was freezing.

He lit the fireplace with a silent incantation, and closed his eyes, letting his skin drink in the warmth.

He laid down on top of his bed, propped up on a few pillows.

The events of the day had been overwhelming, and he was yet again exhausted. He'd never felt more ashamed of himself.

_I'm an embarrassment to the wizarding world. I'm useless. I deserve to die._

The self deprecating thoughts continued for hours, until his eyes eventually grew too heavy to keep open. Laying there, in that mental state between sleep and wakefulness, Draco's mind wandered.

Thoughts of a certain brown haired witch filled his head, and he felt his insides twist and tighten with anxiety.

What scared him most was his intense desire to feel her close to him again, to lose himself in her scent.

He fell asleep with his stomach in severe pain from the nerves.

Sleep overtook him, and with it came intense nightmares.

* * *

Hermione listened for signs of Draco's wakefulness.

She hadn't heard anything from him for over an hour, and yet was still too scared to act on her impulses.

_He must be sleeping. Just do it. Take it. _

She drew a deep breath in, and in a swift movement, crossed the kitchen, pocketing Bellatrix's wand. A sigh of relief escaped her as her hand grasped the cold walnut wood. She finally had a leg up again.

Silently exiting the kitchen, Hermione paced down the long halls of the Malfoy Manor, weighing her options. Her breath clouded every time she exhaled. She shivered uncontrollably in the frozen night.

As she passed by Draco's bedroom, she noticed a faint glow coming from the underside of the door.

_He must've lit a fire again, _she thought to herself, the cold air piercing her once more.

She wondered if it would be possible to sneak in there without his noticing, just to warm up.

Shaking the thought from her mind, Hermione continued on to the Malfoy's library. She paced back and forth through the shelves of worn books, searching for something that would relate to the situation.

She probably could have made herself useful, if it weren't for the exhaustion creeping up on her, and the bitter cold piercing her bones. She grew colder and more tired by the second, and when she could no longer hold her eyes open, Hermione sighed. She stored the wand between two large binded books towards the end of the library, somewhere she knew no one would think to look.

Perhaps it was the extreme deprivation of rest that caused her to do what she did next.

She found herself in a daze, wandering back down the eerie black halls of the manor. The light of the fire from Draco's room was far too enticing, and Hermione quietly opened his door, slipping inside.

She regarded the Slytherin with gentle eyes. He had fallen asleep on his back on the top of the bed.

Something about the quiet of his sleep drew her to him.

Hermione carefully climbed on top of the bed, and lay next to Malfoy. She lay on her side, staring at him, not sure whether to make the move she was planning on. She felt something incredible pulling her towards him.

Deciding to go with her gut, Hermione pulled herself closer to Draco, so much so that they were touching. She draped a careful arm over his chest, and nestled her head upon his shoulder. The warmth of the fire combined with his slow breaths and familiar scent was intoxicating, and Hermione fell almost immediately to sleep.

* * *

Draco woke suddenly in the night, feeling that something had changed. He felt her presence immediately, and pretended to be asleep while she draped herself over him.

_Bloody hell._

The comfort of the embrace was undeniable, and Draco couldn't bring himself to react to her. He indulged the cravings he'd had all day, and allowed his arms to once again wrap around her.

He fell asleep this way, his fingers drawing mindless circles on her back, and their breaths slowly synchronizing. He felt the most comforted he had in months, and had the first nightmare-free slumber he'd had in years.

What was left of the night wore on, and the pair slept, their bodies intertwined.

The sun rose, and Hermione and Draco continued to sleep, prolonging their comfort as long as possible. It wasn't until midday that they were awoken by a most unsettling noise.

The unmistakable sound of apparition.

Two loud 'pop's echoed through the halls of the Malfoy Manor.

**They were no longer alone.**


End file.
